


All Because Of Some Bound Plants

by angelsandpizza



Category: Supernatural
Genre: HS!AU, M/M, cas is supposed to be the new kid, dean is supposed to be hella cool, he thinks he's gonna have a rough time my poor baby :((, i always want to hug cas tbh, idk - Freeform, sorry if there are typos/things don't make sense it's like 2:30am
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 02:02:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2006772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsandpizza/pseuds/angelsandpizza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester never thought he'd be one for daisies and petunias, but hey, he's been wrong before. </p><p>Or, in which nothing could be better than it is now, except when it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Because Of Some Bound Plants

There’s always this morning stress when getting ready for school. This pounding at the back of your head making things feels much worse than they actually. 

Dean’s dad yells at him about making sure he drops Sammy off in time _and_ gets his own ass to school. Sam takes too long in the bathroom. Sam takes too long to eat breakfast. Sam takes too long to get his backpack. Sam just takes too fucking long.

Dean sits there and waits.

There’s no actual reason for all the commotion and worry that goes on. They’d make it on time even if they got caught up in traffic, but for some reason everyone else in the house feels the need to make the situation as trying as they can. 

In the end, both Sam and Dean always make it to the Impala in time. Their mother, Mary, kisses them on the cheek, telling them to have a good day, and the worry lines on their dad’s forehead finally seem to disappear. It’s all good.

Dean drops Sammy off in time, and makes it to school at least five minutes before the bell rings.

He parks the Impala, listening to the slow rumble of it die out. Looking out the window, he sees his group of friends standing by their usual spot. He’s not really sure how it happened, it just kind of became _theirs._

He walked towards them, waving hello.

“Dean!” Jo calls out. Charlie, Ash and Benny wave back to him.

“Hey, guys,” he replies, all nonchalant and chill. Dean Winchester is cool. Or, that’s what he’s supposed to be at least.

He stands by them, listening to them continue their conversation. He kind of tuned out at one point.

Behind where they were standing, there was a bench and table Dean was leaning on. His head was turned so it was facing the school’s football field. He noticed somebody sitting by the bleachers. His hair was jet black, and it looked pretty disarray. There was something atop of his head that he couldn’t quite make out. His hands looked as if they were sewing something, moving back and around like they were trying to get something between a loop.

“Hey, guys, any clue who that is?” he asks, turning his head in the direction of the bleachers. 

“Oh, that’s Castiel… Novak? I think. He’s new,” replies Ash. 

“Dude’s got a weird name,” Dean says in turn.

“Dude’s got a weird _everything,”_ says Ash.

“Hey, be nice, Ash. Look at the guy, he’s just sitting there alone. The least we could do is wait till we actually get to know him. Then we can make fun of him all we want,” Jo says, jokingly. 

Dean doesn’t really know why, but there’s something about the guy that’s intriguing. He doesn’t really like seeing people alone like that, especially if they’re new. Maybe it’s just a protective, brotherly instinct. He remembers Sam coming home to him a couple of times, upset about how some of the other kids wouldn’t let him play basketball with them when they first moved here.

 _God,_ those kids were douches. 

He’s about to go up to the guy, Castiel-- actually, that’s way too big of a mouth full. _Cas,_ he thinks. Yeah, that sounds nice. 

He’s about to go about to _Cas_ , just to say hi, find out a bit about him, but the first bell rings just then, and _wow,_ that thing seems to go off just in time to ruin his plans.

He walks into the school along with his friends. Maybe he could catch the guy during lunch? 

Yeah, that sounds good.

***

It’s Castiel’s first day at this new school, and when he finally hears his alarm bell go off, he really wants nothing more than to hide underneath his blankets and never come out.

His alarm keeps making that annoying beep-fucking-beep sound, but he just hits it off his side table so it comes crashing down to the floor. He buries his face even further into his pillow. 

Mornings are _not_ his thing.

It keeps ringing, and all he can think is please don’t, please, please don’t. 

Getting up means getting ready for the day, and that means going to school.

Mornings in general may not be his thing, but mornings of his first day at a new school are like finding his bedroom sheets stained with _he doesn’t even want to think about what,_ because his older brothers can’t seem to understand the fact that they have their own fucking bedrooms. 

Speaking of older brothers, just as he’s about to force himself to get up, Gabriel, and all his candy loving, ass kissing mannerisms find their way into his bedroom. 

“Hey, little bro. Ready for your first day of school?” he asks.

 _You know the answer to this question well enough,_ is what he _wants_ to say. Instead, he just grumbles into his pillow. 

Gabe sits down at the edge of his bed, patting his back gently. 

“Come on, Casanova, you gotta get up,” he says. It sounds sweeter, more understanding, unlike his usual constantly teasing tone. 

Gabriel knows that school isn’t exactly the best place for Cas. He knows about kids teasing him, he knows about sitting alone during lunch, he knows about how hard it is for Cas to make friends. And he gets it. He may tease Cas a lot, but he cares about him, more than anything, really. 

“I don’t want to,” Cas says, turning his head to look at Gabriel. 

“There’s a lot of things we don’t want to do, little bro, but sometimes we just have to anyways.”

“That’s probably the most intelligent thing I’ve heard come out of your mouth,” says Cas.

“Shut up, wiseass,” Gabriel retorts, but he’s grinning. 

Cas may or may not crack a small smile. A _small_ one. Smaller than small. 

“What if they make fun of me?” Cas says, a little more to himself. 

Gabriel still hears, though.

His face falls at that. 

“Fuck them if they make fun of you,” says Gabe, surely and maybe even a little protectively. 

Cas raises a brow at that.

“You know what I mean. Fuck them. Who cares if they make fun of you. Throw a flower at them or something, Cas, it doesn’t _matter._ And if they keep bugging you, just hit me up. I’ll make sure that their full-of-shit mouths really _are_ full of shit.”

Cas isn’t entirely convinced, but it’s still comforting to hear. It’s nice to know someone’s got your back.

“Thanks, Gabe.”

“No problem. Now get your lazy ass up, or I will drag you out of this bed myself.”

Back to annoying older brother mode, once again. It was nice while it lasted.

Cas rolls his eyes, but he gets up.

Maybe this day wouldn’t be too bad.

***

The first few periods of school go by pretty slow, unsurprisingly. It all just seems to be one big haze of nothingness and not paying attention.

Dean has English before the bells for lunch goes, and this is probably the most happy he’s been to ever even think about that class. 

He takes his usual seat near the back. 

Out of his periphery, he notices someone taking a seat in the empty chair beside him. Looking up, he notices that it’s Cas. He’s tucking something away in his hoodie’s pocket quickly. He couldn’t quite make it out, but it looked pretty… delicate? That’s all he could think of to describe it.

Cas turns around and sees Dean looking at him, immediately looking a little shy. Scared, even, like he was just caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing.

Dean smiles at him, hoping it came out as reassuring. 

Cas smiles back, but it still seems a little unsure. 

He’d never notice from where he was standing outside, but the guy’s eyes are the bluest he’s ever seen. Kind of beautiful, actually. 

_Fuck,_ that sounded really cheesy. 

English goes by surprisingly fast, and Dean can’t help but take a quick look at Cas every once in awhile. He doesn’t know exactly _why,_ but he does.

The bell rings, and everyone rushes out of the room as fast as they can. 

Dean wants to talk to Cas, but the guys seems to be taking a little longer to get out of class than everyone else. He tries to move at his pace. 

He follows him out into the hall, then quickly taps his shoulder.

“Hey,” he starts, “you’re the new kid, right?” Dean, asks.

Cas looks a bit taken aback at the moment, like it takes him a second to notice Dean’s talk to him, but at the same time he’s giving him this look that sort of says _well, dimwit, have you ever seen me around before?_

“Yeah, I’m Castiel,” he replies, nonetheless. 

“I’m Dean. Would you mind if I called you just Cas?”

He doesn’t really know why he asks that because his mind has clearly already given him permission to do that.

“Sure,” he says. Then, “Hello, Dean.” It comes out a little slow.

“Would you, uh, would you mind if I sat with you at lunch?” asks Dean. He probably didn’t need to ask. He was _Dean Winchester,_ and Cas was the new guy, but he didn’t want to seem cocky.

Yes, he _can_ differentiate from seeming and being.

Cas looked really surprised when Dean said that, like he couldn’t actually believe it, like it was a joke or something. It kind of hurt Dean to think that. 

“Um, wouldn’t you rather sit with your friends?” is Cas’ reply, but a part of him sounds a little hopeful. 

“Nah, I think they can handle one lunch break without me,” replies Dean as coolly as he can. 

Cas smiles. His eyes look bright. 

Dean smiles back.  
***

They sit down at a table in the back corner of the room, looking across at each other. 

There’s a silence between them for awhile. It’s not exactly awkward or uncomfortable, it’s more like when you really want to say something to someone, but just don’t know what _to_ say.

Dean finally breaks it.

“So, um, I saw you putting something in your pocket during English.”

Cas blushes and looks down.

_Shit, did I embarrass him. Good job, Winchester. A+._

“Sorry,” he blurts the apology out, “You don’t have to tell me.”

Cas smiles timidly. 

“It’s alright.”

He reaches into his pocket to pull the thing out.

“It’s a flower crown,” he says. “I, um, I used to make them a lot when I was a kid,” he continues, looking up at Dean.

He looks kind of scared, like he’s afraid that the entire room will erupt into laughter.

Dean doesn’t really know what he feels at first, other than the fact that it’s actually kind of really fucking _adorable._

_Get a grip, Winchester._

Cas looks more and more anxious by the second, and Dean realizes he should probably say something just so the guy doesn’t end up exploding or something.

“I love it,” he finally says, and he means it. He smiles at Cas.

Cas smiles back.

“Thank you,” he says, quietly; almost a whisper. 

“Could you make me one, maybe?” Dean asks.

“Here, you can have this one,” he says, handing the flower crown over to Dean, smiling at him.

Dean realizes here and now that he _really_ loves Cas’ smile. It’s almost an unsure thing, sometimes something that you can barely even catch in time, but it’s one of those smiles that makes you light up inside out.

Dean takes it in his hands and looks at it for a moment. He never thought he’d be one for daisies and petunias, but hey, he’s been wrong before.

“Whoa, thanks, Cas,” he says, and can’t help but grin.

“It’s not big deal, I have more. I can teach you how to make some, if you’d like me to,” says Cas.

“Yeah,” he says, still grinning, “Yeah, I’d love that.”

He puts the flower crown on his head, and Cas is practically beaming. 

The bell rings just then.

“Would you like to do it tonight?” Cas adds, quickly. Dean can tell he doesn’t want to be late for class.

“Sure, I’m free. I’ll meet you by the school bleachers at five-ish?”

“Alright,” says Cas. His voice is completely unwavering, but his face looks like it’s ready to somersault into the air.

Which, of course, gives Dean the perfect mental image of something he’d never wanted to imagine. _Stupid._

“See ya, Cas,” says Dean, waving.

“See you, Dean,” says Cas.

They both walk to class with smiles that they just can’t seem to rub off their faces.

***

Cas _immediately_ regrets telling Gabriel about how he’s gonna meet up with Dean afterschool.

Actually, not immediately. He regrets it before it even _happens._

“Wow, Cassie’s got a da-a-te,” he sings at him, teasingly. 

Cas flushes.

“It’s not a date,” he spits at him. “I’m teaching him how to bind plants together so he can put them over his head. That’s not exactly something someone does to woo someone else.”

Gabriel doesn’t listen. He just keeps singing, and singing, and fucking _singing._

“I don’t even know why I told you,” says Cas, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, but I’m ever so glad you did, little bro. We’ve got to get you ready for this fufu, flowery date of yours,” says Gabriel.

 _Could you even sound like more of an asshole,_ Cas thinks. 

“Gabriel, no. I don’t want to seem like some overly eager weirdo. Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to actually get people to even look my _way?_ And Dean wants to spend some time with me, and he actually seems like he _wants_ to, so if you could just _not_ be an asshole for two minutes, it would be extremely appreciated.”

Gabriel actually shuts up for a moment. Actually, he looks kind of aghast. 

_Maybe I should lash out all my teenage angst on him more._

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” 

He actually sounds apologetic. 

Cas sighs.

“It’s alright, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… attacked you like that. Though, you were actually being pretty asshole-y.”

“No, I’m sorry, Cas. I’m just excited for you. I’m glad this kid’s being nice to you, you deserve that. You’re a good kid.”

“I know, I know. It’s alright,” says Cas. And it is. It _is_ alright.

Things _actually_ seem to be going alright.

“You’re a good brother, too,” he adds on. It almost seems like an afterthought, but it’s true

Gabe smiles, but of course, him being him, it’s right back head nudging and “loving” punches straight after.

And if Cas is completely honest, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“But seriously, kid, if you need any help, just hit me up. And if this kid turns out to be an asshole, I swear, I’ll smother him with my own two hands.”

“Gabriel, he may be a teenage boy, and you may be a college graduate, but he’s still got _at least_ a good four inches on you.”

Cas regrets saying that as soon as it comes out of his mouth, like any other retort he spits out around Gabriel.

Gabe raises his eyebrows suggestively, moving the back and forth, rolling them.

“You are _insufferable,”_ says Cas, but he’s laughing. 

“Shut up, you love me,” say Gabe.

Cas snorts.

Looking over at the clock, he sees that it’s almost around five now.

He heads out his house, walking to the school.

It’s around that time he starts feeling all his packed up anxieties ready to explode.

_What if Dean doesn’t show up? What if he was just joking? What is he thinks that I’m some sort of joke? What if, what if, what if._

A part of him is still telling him to just _go._

_Dean’s probably sitting there on the bleachers, waiting for you, maybe even feeling the exact same things._

So he goes. He walks to the school, and pushes all those thoughts to the back of his mind. He just _goes._

***

Surely enough, when he gets there, he sees the back of a familiar figure seated on the bleachers. Cas smiles to himself.

He’s smiled a lot today.

He silently takes a seat beside Dean.

“Heya, Cas”, Dean greets.

“Hello, Dean,” then, “I brought the stuff,” he says, pulling everything they need out.

He pauses for a moment, thinking, _Dammit, first with Gabriel, now with Dean._

“I just realized that sounds like something a drug dealer would say. Sorry,” he adds, feeling his face flush.

Dean laughs. Hard. 

It’s glorious.

“That’s alright, don’t worry about it,” says Dean, still snickering. 

Cas still feels like he’s flushing, head to toe.

It actually takes them quite awhile to start doing what they met up to do in the first place.

 _Flowers crowns,_ Cas thinks, _I get to do this all because of a flower crown._

They laugh, and talk, get to know each other more. Cas thinks he likes Dean better and better by the second. And maybe, just _maybe,_ Dean might feel the same way about him.

It starts to get dark, and they still haven’t really gotten far with the flower crowns. They both know it was just an excuse at this point, but for what, neither of them are completely sure.

Neither of them question it.

Cas never really knew what it felt like to get completely lost in conversation with someone, until now.

And now that he knows what it’s like, it’s really all he wants. He wants to be able to talk to someone until you look at the time and think _wow, we’ve been talking this long?_ Or get to that point of the conversation where you don’t really know how you got from one point to another, but you’re glad you did. Or even when you’re just rambling, though you don’t really know what about, but the other person still listens. 

The both of them sit there together on the bleachers, and everything feels right.

Well, except for the fact that it’s getting a little cold. But that’s alright, he can deal.

Or, actually, maybe he can’t.

He shivers, and Dean looks over at him, concerned.

“You okay?” Dean asks.

“Yes,” he replies, because he is. He really, _really_ is.

“I’m just a little cold,” he adds quickly. “I guess I should have brought a sweater.”

“Here,” Dean says as he pulls off his coat. “You can borrow mine.”

“Thank you, Dean.” 

Sometimes Cas is still astounded by how big even the _tiniest_ of kind gestures can seem to him.

“Are you sure that you won’t get cold?”

“Nah, I’ve got enough layers on to survive in the Arctic,” Dean replies.

“I doubt it,” says Cas.

“I’m tryna be nice, wiseass,” says Dean, but he’s grinning.

Cas can’t do anything but smile back.

He looks up, and it’s then that he notices a small group of people walking closer and closer towards the bleachers.

“Who are they?” asks Cas.

“Just some guys from school, don’t worry about it, Cas, you got me for protection,” Dean jokes.

Cas shifts his eyes. 

They’re only a couple of feet away from the bleachers now, and Cas feels more and more unsettled by the second. 

“Hey, Dean!” one of them calls out.

“That’s Gordon,” says Dean, turning his head towards Cas.

“Hey guys!” he calls back at them.

They’re standing in front of them now.

“This guy bothering you?” asks Gordon, pointing at Cas like he isn’t even there.

_So it’s back to this._

Cas sighs.

Dean looks at him. Even though he’s looking down at his feet now, as if that can somehow magically transport him away from this situation, Cas can tell he looks upset with what he just heard.

“No, guys, this is Cas. He’s new, and actually really cool. So quit being douches,” says Dean.

 _“Him?_ Dude, he’s a total weirdo. You don’t have to be anywhere near this guy. Just tell us if he’s bothering you.”

“Dude, I’m _serious._ Cas is great, and you guys, quite frankly, are being total assholes right now. Just, fuck off,” says Dean, exasperated.

 _“Dean,_ he’s got you making those fucked up _flower crown_ things he wears. _Seriously?”_

“They’re not fucked up, they’re great, actually. So yeah, _seriously,”_ says Dean, sounding angrier and angrier by the second.

Cas wants to speak up for himself, he really does. He is actually more than capable of doing so. In his past schools, he learned just how well he can do that. He can stick up for himself. He is a strong person. He is more than competent. 

But sometimes it just gets exhausting, constantly listening to people tease and hurt you, and having nobody at all by your side.

Dean’s helping. Dean is there for him. He doesn’t have to push that away. He can have this, he can have _someone._

Cas notices Dean taking out the flower crown he’d given him earlier that day at school.

His heart jumps at the fact that he still kept it. 

Dean puts it on his head, with total and utter confidence and reassurance. 

“These things are the _bomb,_ so, like I said before, apologize to him and _fuck off.”_

“You’re literally just as fucked up as he is, Dean,” Gordon spits out, obviously out of the fact that he has nothing else to say.

Dean stood up for Cas, and Cas will do just the same for Dean. And himself. 

He can stand up for the both of them.

“No, he’s not fucked up,” he finally says. Everyone looks at him. Dean looks pretty surprised to hear his voice.

“He’s not fucked up, and neither am I,” he finishes, because that really is all there is to say.

Gordon snorts.

“Yeah, whatever.”

They all turn around to _finally_ leave.

Dean stills looks at them like he’s ready to tear their heads off.

“Sorry about that, Cas,” says Dean. Cas can tell he really, sincerely is.

“It’s alright. I’m sorry you had to deal with that, but he is right, you know. You don’t need to hang out with me if I’m bugging you,” says Cas, and it hits him hard. The thought that he was actually _annoying_ Dean, that Dean didn’t want to be here with him at all and was just acting like he did hadn’t hit him till now.

He feels like an idiot. 

“I know I don’t need to. I’m just doing what I _want_ to,” says Dean.

Cas hadn’t even realized he was looking down, away from Dean, until Dean slowly put his hand underneath his chin to bring his face up and look at him.

His hand felt warm.

Dean looked right at Cas, smiling at him, trying to assure him that what he was saying really was what he meant.

Cas smiled back at him.

Dean makes him smile a lot.

“Thank you, Dean.”

They stay silent for awhile, but it’s a nice silence. 

Then, Cas realizes that Dean still has the flower crown on his head.

“You know, it looks nice on you,” he says, breaking the silence. “The flower crown,” he adds to clear up what he meant.

Dean blushes. All over.

He lets out a small, breathy laugh. The kind you let out when you’re flattered and don’t really know what to say.

“Um, thanks, Cas.”

Silence again.

“We should go home now, probably,” says Dean.

Out of the many things Cas had thought about tonight, going back home was not at all one of them.

He sighs.

“Yes, I guess we should,” says Cas.

“Need me to walk home with you?” asks Dean.

“No,” says Cas, “I _want_ you to walk home with me.”

Dean smiles, sweet and happy, and Cas does too.

Standing on his doorstep a couple minutes later, ready to say goodbye, Dean says, “You know, it looks good on you too.”

Cas looks at him, puzzled.

“That jacket,” Dean adds, and he grins, cheeky and wide.

Cas blushes, hard and red, and he kind of wants to hide his face in his hands.

He looks away for a moment.

When he turns back, Dean’s still there, smiling. He hands him the coat back.

“Goodnight, Dean,” Cas says.

“Goodnight, Cas,” Dean replies, warm and kind. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he adds.

“Yeah, you will,” says Cas, almost to himself. The words fill him with happiness.

He closes the door just in time to see Dean smile one more time tonight. 

***

Dean falls asleep smiling.

***

They grow close after that. Really close.

They hang out together after school. Hang out, of course, being another way to say go out on dates together.

Cas sits with Dean, Charlie, Benny, Jo and Ash at lunch. They all hit it off.

Jo, Charlie and Cas especially. Charlie teaches Cas a thing or two about Star Trek, way better than Dean ever could, and the guy _loves_ it. 

Not only does he thinks it’s really fucking cool (Dean thinks the fact that Cas thinks that is just _as_ fucking cool), he’s also really able to appreciate all of its underlying messages, which, come to think of it, Dean hadn’t really even noticed until now. 

And _damn,_ the discussions Charlie and Cas get into. 

Jo and Cas tutor each other. What for, he’s not sure, since they’re both impossibly smart. Maybe tutoring is just a coverup for hanging out, like hanging out is for dates.

Everything is good. More than good, actually. 

And just like that, during lunch one day, with Cas sitting by his side, laughing at one of Benny’s jokes, Dean realizes that he wants to kiss Cas.

Like, _really_ wants to kiss Cas.

He wants to kiss him so that he’s smiling just the way he is now, in this very moment, bright and strong and wide. He wants to kiss him so that it’s not really kissing anymore, it’s just their noses bumped against each other, their lips trying to reach each other’s, but fumbling because they’re just smiling _so damn hard._

And if kissing Cas is what Dean Winchester wants, then that’s exactly what he’s gonna get.

***

He invites Cas over after school, telling him that he’s gonna drive him to this _amazing_ pizza place in town.

Though it’s been a couple of months since Cas moved here, he really hasn’t been around much. And Dean wants to show him _everything._

As soon as the dismissal bell rings, Dean gathers all his stuff as fast as he can to race towards the Impala, insuring he reaches there before Cas does.

He has to be smooth about this. It has to be _perfect._

He rushes into the Impala’s driver’s seat, throwing his bag in the backseat.

And then he waits.

And he feels anxious.

He feel _scared._

What if Cas doesn’t want to kiss him?

What if the kiss ends up being shit, and he just embarrasses himself?

What if he fucks it up?

He can’t, he can’t, _he can’t._

He’s snapped out of his thoughts when he hears a knock on the window. 

Looking in the direction of the noise, he sees Cas, and right there and then, all those worries just seem to disappear.

The whole world seems to disappear when he’s around Cas. 

He opens the door to let Cas in, and Cas settles in beside him, throwing his bag beside Dean’s.

Cas turns towards Dean and smiles.

And Dean figures that there really is no point in stalling himself, holding himself back, because there’s never been a moment he’s wanted to kiss Cas more than he does now.

Dean moves his hand besides Cas, and Cas takes the hint. He intertwines their fingers together.

He’s still smiling.

“So, um, Cas,” Dean starts.

“Yes, that’s me,” says Cas.

Dean shakes his head and lets out a little laugh because of course he would say something like that. Of course.

“I-- uh, I really like you,” Dean finishes, quite lamely if he says so himself. 

“I really like you,” says Cas, smiling again, even brighter.

Dean laughs breathily. 

“And, I-- um, okay, like, really, really like you and, um…” Dean trails off. His stomach feels like it’s ready to burst open and send a swarm of butterflies flying out.

“Yes, Dean,” Cas says, trying to reassure him by squeezing his hand a little tighter.

“Could I kiss you?” Dean says, finally, just to get it out, just to get it overwith. So if Cas says no, if Cas laughs in his face, that’s that. And if Cas complies, that’s also that, except, like, a billion times better.

Cas stares at him for a moment, eyes big, mouth open, then he whispers _yes._

They inch closer to one another, slowly, timidly, both unsure of what this is going to be like, of what’s going to happen next. It’s a whole new world, and the both of them are going to walk into it together, ready for whatever hits them.

Dean lay a palm on the side of Cas’ cheek. Cas lays his hand on Dean’s shoulder.

They’re so close to one another that Dean can feel Cas’ breath against his cheek, warm. Cas can see every light mattering of freckles across Dean’s face. He wants to touch them, all of them. They rest like shiny stars, twinkling in their own way. Not literally, of course. But they just seem to be something greater, all because of the fact they belong to Dean. He can see every shade of green in his eyes.

Dean notices a couple crooked teeth on the bottom row of Cas’ mouth. You can’t tell they’re crooked if you were to look straight at them, but when he hangs his mouth open a little, and if you look at it from the right angle, you can see how they lay against each other, beside one another, cramping in however they can to fit. There’s even a couple of freckles by his nose, and god, his eyelashes are just so long. His eyes have never looked bluer. 

The first kiss isn’t exactly a kiss. It’s just that. Looking at each other, all from a new light. Taking the time to stoke their thumbs against the contours of each other’s faces, getting to know every bone and crook and bump. Breathing heavy, hearts beating, hard and loud, getting lost in the feel of skin against fingers. Mouths close to each other, _so close,_ but not there just quite yet. 

It’s like looking at something again for the first time in a long time, noticing things you never would have even _imagined_ before. It’s like waking up in the morning with hazy eyes, vision blurred, then rubbing your palms against your eyelids, and finally looking at the first thing that you see clearly, looking at the _only_ thing that makes sense. It’s new, and it’s old at the same time because it’s always been there, right by your side, right in front of you.

And all you can think is _you’re so beautiful, you’re so beautiful, you are so fucking beautiful and I never want to lose you and I don’t even know how I fucking have you in the first place._

And finally, their lips brush against each other, soft, light, barely there, but at the same time it’s the only thing they feel. It’s a collection of paradoxes, all wrapped up in one tiny box for you to hold and figure out. But you don’t feel stressed about it. You feel ready. You know that it’s not scary, you don’t have to worry about it too much because you know that the person handing the box to you is going to take the time to figure it all out with you. You just _know._

As their lips brush, fireworks don’t go off. People don’t cheer, the universe doesn’t stop. The world continues to move round, the sun burns, the stars shine. They’re still in a car, parked in the school parking lot.

Instead of a loud burst of fireworks, it’s the soft sound of a sigh. Instead of noisy yelling and cheering, fists in the air, it’s the need to be closer, impossibly closer, with your hands running through the other’s hair. The universe doesn’t stop, but theirs, their own, tiny little one does, just for a moment. They’re in a car, but they’re also in each other’s arms. And there’s nowhere else they’d rather be.

And when they pull apart, they’re still looking at the same person. They always have been, and they’re still everything that they’ve ever been, that they are, that they ever will be, and it hits them how much they _love _that. It’s the same person as always, just maybe with slightly redder, puffier lips. Just maybe.__

__And now Dean’s grinning like an idiot, and in turn so is Cas and everything is perfect for the moment and nothing _could_ ever be and _will_ ever be better than it is now. Except when it is. _ _

__So they pull in for another kiss just because they _can._ Dean can kiss Cas in the hallway, he can kiss the nape of his neck as he’s at his locker. Cas can pull Dean closer to him, rest his hands in his hair, run his fingers through the strands. _ _

__Time doesn’t seem like anything at one point. Second turn into minutes, and minutes can turn into hours because there will always be a point at which they have to break their lips apart. And hey, that’s okay, because there’s always a promise for more. Besides, they _were_ supposed to go out for pizza. _ _

__So while Dean’s driving Cas to that pizza place, Cas looks out the passenger’s seat, staring at the world passing by them, but it doesn’t really feel like that, not really. It feels like he has the world sitting right by him. And Dean may or may not have took his hand off the steering wheel for a moment, _just a moment, he isn’t fucking crazy,_ to put his hand in Cas’. And Dean, just like Cas, feels the world by his side._ _

**Author's Note:**

> idk i'm writing this for janelle since she's the only one who cares about my writing and i'm v unsure about this and i feel like it went by too fast but yeah it wan't supposed to be so 100k fic or anything either so 
> 
> hope u liked it!!!


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